


outshine the stars

by Ariesgirl666



Category: Batgirl (Comics), Birds of Prey (Comic), Black Canary (Comics), DC Comics
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, dinahbabs, some sexy stuff, yes another songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 17:08:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15934742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ariesgirl666/pseuds/Ariesgirl666
Summary: "are we not wise enoughto give all we are?surely we’re bright enoughto outshine the starsbut humankind gets so lostin finding its wayand we have a chance to make a differencetil our dying day"





	outshine the stars

**Author's Note:**

> listen to Wise Enough by Lamb  
> my fancast is Dichen Lachman as Dinah Lance and Alexandra Breckenridge as Barbara Gordon
> 
> note -makes reference to things that happened during the OG Birds of Prey

 

The kiss was an accidental brush of lips right after Dinah had settled the dripping Oracle in her arms. Barbara’s wet lips brushed hers, and Dinah kissed back without thinking. But it was brief, because people were after Barbara. Dinah thinks about that moment a lot now, and she can’t forget the way Barbara’s dripping body felt against hers, silhouetted in that damn black rubber wetsuit. With her hand between her legs and hot tears stinging her eyes, Dinah remembers the way Barbara’s green eyes glowed in the night and when she comes, she whispers _“Oracle.”_

 

_“and you might pray to god_

_or say it’s destiny_

_but i say we’re just hiding_

_all that we can be”_

 

Dinah finds her in a locked closet during a panic attack.  
“Babs? Babs, I’m coming in!”

Huddled in a corner, knees tucked against her chest, Barbara weeps uselessly. She isn’t here on the dusty closet floor, she’s lying with the wood grain of her father’s house pressed against her cheek and cold, spindly hands unbuttoning her shirt and _god that laugh that fucking laugh_

and then she’s in the basement with Spellbinder, who laughs as she weeps, tied in a hold she could’ve gotten out of any day of the week if she only had her goddamn legs

and then she’s being pushed out into traffic and all she can think is _no_

and then she’s being pulled into an embrace that smells faintly of leather and lavender. Dinah whispers into her hair, rocking her back and forth. “You’re in the Clocktower, Babs, you’re okay, I promise, I’m here, you’re safe, you’re safe.”

Barbara sobs, hating that her favorite operative always sees her so weak, but she’s still crying to hard to speak.

Dinah holds her until she cries herself to sleep, one heavy-ringed hand stroking through her hair.

And Dinah never tells her that she missed one of her own concerts for this, and Barbara never finds out.

 

 

_are we not wise enough_

_to give all we are?_

_surely we’re bright enough_

_to outshine the stars_

 

When Barbara has that virus in her brain, and she staggers towards Dinah on working, unsteady legs and collapses into her arms, eyelids fluttering, and Dinah sinks to her knees to support her boss’s weight that’s when Barbara kisses her -quick and brief, like that night on the pier, and Dinah’s eyes open because _this isn’t Barbara_ and she pulls away. When Barbara - _not Barbara!_ -looks up at her, green eyes shining, it’s everything Dinah can do to resist temptation.

“I’m tired, Di,” Barbara slurs.

“You can’t go to sleep, Babs,” Dinah insists, shaking her lightly. “Barbara, you might have a head injury, you can’t-”

She leans forward and Barbara headbutts her, gets gracefully to her feet as though she was never in a wheelchair. Dinah’s vision blurs and fades, but she manages to kick her legs out and send Barbara crashing into her wheelchair. “Fuck you,” Dinah mutters, as the _thing_ inside her best friend sends out frantic bleeps of binary code.

 

_but humankind gets so lost_

_in finding its way_

 

“I love you, Babs.”

Barbara stares at her long enough that it starts to make her uncomfortable.

Then she smiles. “I love you too, Dinah,” and Dinah knows that there’s nothing she can do to make the other woman _understand_.

 

_and we have a chance to make a difference_

_til our dying day_

 

Dinah asks Barbara to stay with her every night after Huntress rescues her from Savant. When she closes her eyes she can still hear the creaks of the bedsprings, can hear his mild voice contrasting with the sharp pain in her broken legs.

“I’m afraid I’m not much good to you,” Dinah tells Barbara from her own wheelchair. “I’m a broken bird.”

A flash of unreadable emotion blinks across Barbara’s face and then is gone just as quickly. “We’ll be broken birds together, then,” Barbara says.

She sleeps in Barbara’s bed and they wake each other up from their respective nightmares and just as the dawn is crowning, Barbara kisses her, and this one isn’t brief.

 

_all i’m really asking is_

_what are we doing here?_

 

They stay in bed most of the morning, exchanging secrets and lazy kisses. Barbara tells her about how she used to be Batgirl, and a lot of things make sense now. Dinah trails her blunt fingernails up Barbara’s spine absently, notes the way it makes the redhead shiver.

“I really do love you,” Barbara says as though it was in doubt. “And more importantly, I trust you.”

Dinah smiles and kisses her boss again. “You don’t say.”

 

_are we just killing time?_

_just living year to year?_

 

After Dinah and Ollie break up again, Barbara isn’t surprised to see the blonde at the Clocktower door, black sweater hanging off her shoulder, a bruise forming on her cheekbone, and stinking of alcohol.

“Did he do that to you?” Barbara asks. Dinah’s cheeks are flushed because she went out in January in Gotham with no jacket. “Got in a bar fight after he left,” she slurs. “Babs, I dunno what I’m gonna do.”  
“It’s going to be okay,” Barbara says, and then mentally smacks herself. _Barbara, you idiot. How would you feel if somebody said that to you after your big breakup with Dick?_

But Dinah just sniffles and falls to her knees before Babs, placing her head in her lap, and Barbara runs her fingers through dyed-blonde hair whispering those meaningless words of encouragement that she’s always hated and Dinah’s always loved.

That night, Dinah wearing Barbara’s blue t-shirt, they sit together and sip hot chocolate and when Dinah kisses her, all sharp mouth and probing tongue, Barbara quiets her conscience and lets her best agent make love to her.

In the morning, Dinah’s gone.

 

_in this big world_

_no one else can play our part_

_ain’t it time to just wake up and_

_give all we are?_

 

“We’ve been doing this dance for a while,” Dinah says many, many years later. “I think it’s about time I asked you out formally. I’m in love with you, Babs, and I have been since I met you.”

Barbara tucks a red curl behind her ear. “I -I think I’m in love with you too, Di.”

Dinah kneels to look up into Barbara’s eyes. “No pressure,” she says. “No constraints. Everything is _in your control_.”

Barbara smiles, then, and bends to kiss her, and Dinah knows everything’s going to be alright for a little while.


End file.
